domingo, 21 de abril de 2013

Matutinal twilight

                When the mind awakes, and the insolent soul search for reasons to jubilate and does not find them, what is left for the mortal man, but to agonize in his bed and see it become a bizarre grave for the living? To feel his flesh rot, his blood become cold and to carry the incommensurable weight of a vain existence while he bears the unending torture of another solar jorney, and to curse the innocent star in his mind for trying to bring happiness to this world, because as she does this, she also renews this futile cicle of life.

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